Breath of Heaven: A delivery and a deliverance
by ForceForGood
Summary: Obi-Wan tries to do something nice, Siri gets aggravated, and a clone gets blamed. A lighthearted Siriwan.
1. Chapter 1

**Breath of Heaven**

_A delivery and a deliverance. Fluffy Siriwan._

By ForceForGood

Rated G

_Disclaimer: Star Wars and all its characters are owned by George Lucas and company. I wrote this for fun, not profit!_

_***_

"The man is an obstinate, rock-headed nerf-herder with the brain of a bantha and the wisdom of a mutant mynock!"

General Siri Tachi put her hands on her hips and glowered at the flickering blue hologram of Obi-Wan Kenobi, Jedi Master and High General of the Grand Army of the Republic.

"Is he really as bad as that?" Obi-Wan asked mildly, his voice distorted by the distance between Coruscant, where he was overseeing the Mid-Rim conflicts, and Dhakar, where Siri was stationed with her clone troops.

"Maybe Governor Tristan doesn't have the brain of a bantha," Siri allowed, "but he is obstinate and rock-headed and foolish! You'd have thought I'd asked him to give me the sacred staff of the Sayyidi, the way he went on! For crying out loud, all I want to do is buy food from him!"

"Why is he so unwilling to help?"

"Well, supplies are short for everyone in Qaedar, so I didn't expect him to be thrilled about sending some of it to us, but he just refused to understand that I can't get rid of the droid army cutting off the city's supply routes, unless I keep my clones fit and fed!"

Siri paused for a moment to calm herself, and continued with her report.

"I've cut rations again, but this can't continue much longer. I have to keep my clones out on patrols constantly, and the teams keep getting caught in skirmishes that wear down on their strength and their patience. Morale is about to hit rock-bottom. Is there any hope that Master Rahm will be able to punch a hole in the planetary blockade, so we can just get our supplies from off-planet?"

"I'm afraid not. He's doing his best, but we can't count on that happening any time soon."

Siri sighed. "I guess I'll just have to try again. I'll see if I can arrange another meeting with Governor Tristan tomorrow morning."

"I'm sure you'll be able to persuade him," Obi-Wan said. "But Siri - you said the morale of your troops is low, but how is their general doing?"

"Not so hot, but I'll live."

"Is there anything I can do for you?"

"Like what, send me flowers?" Siri laughed. "There's nothing you can do. Don't worry about me. I'll be fine."

Obi-Wan didn't seem entirely convinced, but he knew better than to push it.

"Then I'll look forward to your next report," he said. "May the Force be with you."

"And you," Siri said, and ended the transmission.

***

Clone Captain Lock was manning the communications equipment late that night when another transmission was initiated from the Jedi Temple on Coruscant.

"High General Kenobi," Captain Lock said, removing his helmet respectfully upon recognizing the holoimage of General Tachi's superior officer.

"Captain Lock. Where is General Tachi?" Obi-Wan asked.

"She's asleep, sir, but I will be happy to fetch her for you."

"No, no need," Obi-Wan said. "I have an important assignment for you, Captain, but you must carry it out in complete secrecy. Even General Tachi must not know of it. Do you understand?"

"Yes, sir."

"Good. Tell me, Captain, have you familiarized yourself with the native flora?"

"Yes, sir. We were fully briefed on the various plants and trees which might prove hazardous to our mission - the hallucinogenic fungi that grow in the deep forest, the poisonous bushes that eat away at the skin, the tree that-"

"Yes, Captain, that's very good. But the biological specimen I am interested in is not poisonous. It is known as the paeonia peregrina, and it grows only in tiny niches found high on the rock cliffs near your camp. Have you heard of it?"

"No, sir."

"I'm not surprised. It's quite rare. I need you to find a specimen for me, and discreetly report back as soon as you have it. Can you do it?"

"Yes, sir. I won't let you down."

"Good. Here's what you need to look for..."

***

A few hours before dawn, Captain Lock slipped into the communications tent and dismissed the clone who was standing guard there. Lock opened a link to Coruscant, wincing as his movements caused his sore arms and legs to twinge painfully. He didn't have long to wait before the wavering blue image of High General Kenobi appeared before him.

"Sir? It took some work, sir, but Operation Paeonia was a success," he reported.

The captain saw the general's face light up. "Excellent work, Captain. I have one thing further for you to do. This will be the difficult part. You must sneak into General Tachi's tent while she is sleeping, and leave the specimen where she will see it upon awakening."

"Yes, sir. But sir - in my experience, it is extraordinarily difficult to sneak up on a Jedi. What shall I say if she catches me?"

General Kenobi thought carefully.

"I don't like to think of the consequences of being caught in such a situation, especially by a woman like General Tachi," he said. "I order you to not get caught."

"Yes, sir," Lock said unhappily, and ended the transmission.

***

Siri awoke early, as she did every morning, so she could have the chance to meditate in her tent in peace before the clones awoke and began to make their usual racket moving equipment around.

The first thing her eyes fell on as she sat up in bed was a many-petaled white flower resting on the crate she used as a table. She looked around sleepily, and saw no one and nothing else unusual in her tent. Siri swung her legs over the edge of her cot and shivered as her bare feet touched the cold ground, but she leaned over and picked up the flower before returning to her cot, tucking her chilled feet underneath her for warmth.

She studied the blossom with curiosity. It was about the size of her hand, and the petals were such a pure white that they nearly glowed in the early morning light filtering through her tent. She touched the ruffled edge of a petal, and marveled at its softness.

_Who could have left it here?_ she wondered. None of the clones struck her as the sentimental type, and there was no one else near the camp for miles, with the exception of battle droids. Siri lifted the bloom to her face and a heavenly scent washed over her. The fragrance was light and appealing without being overly sweet. She breathed it in for a long moment, then lowered the flower back down to her lap and gently touched it, dampening her fingers with the dew beading the petals.

_Perhaps it's a good omen_, she thought. _Perhaps today Governor Tristan will agree to give us the supplies._

TO BE CONTINUED


	2. Chapter 2

_Whatever it is the Jedi wants, she won't get it_, Governor Tristan thought.

He leaned toward the porthole of his atmospheric yacht and looked in sorrow at the scarred land, where droids and clones had been destroying each other for months without regard to the consequences for the Dhakar people. Soon, his yacht would approach the camp of the so-called "Grand" Army of the Republic, and he would be forced to once again meet with its general, who had the nerve to ask him for help after what her army had done to his planet.

_Oh, Sayyidi_, he silently prayed to the spiritual leader of Qeadar during his youth, now long gone to meet her Maker. _I need your wisdom now, more than ever. Our home is being destroyed. And I am powerless to stop it.  
_  
In the distant memories of his mind, he could see the Sayyidi as she had emerged from the Bendu Temple after three days and nights of seclusion, her silken yellow robe fluttering in the breeze as she greeted the throngs of Dharkar pilgrims who had traveled to the city of Qaedar for the holy festival of Ramlidar. The Sayyidi was then carried with great reverence through the streets at the head of a procession. She lifted her flower-twined sacred staff high above her head, so that it could be seen by all the crowd.

When the Sayyidi - his mother - spotted him amongst his friends watching the procession, she stopped her attendants, stepped down from her palanquin and drew him gently aside.

_"As I sat in contemplation on the High Seat of the Bendu Temple, I had a great vision," _she told him_, "one that brings me much joy. One day you will be a leader of this people, Tristan."_

"Me?" the boy asked his mother in amazement.__

"You, my son. You will be wise and strong in a time of great turmoil. You will be a loyal ally to our friends, and you will defend your home from many foes."

"But I am not wise, mother. I'm just ... me." Then he remembered to whom he was speaking, and continued more formally_, "And Sayyidi, how am I to know friend from foe?"  
_  
"Governor? We've arrived," his pilot said, startling Tristan out of his memory.

A guard lowered the gangplank, and Tristan smoothed his flowing blue cape before exiting the ship. A Human woman with shoulder-length blonde hair waited for him at the end of the gangplank, dressed in the simple white tunic and brown robes of the Jedi. She bowed politely to him, and in response Tristan spread his hands in the formal greeting and said, "I hope our meeting finds you well, General Tachi."

"Thank you for coming, Governor Tristan," she said, gesturing for him to sit on one of two large storage crates that had been set on the grass nearby.

Tristan sat on the edge of the storage crate and General Tachi sat opposite him. She offered him refreshment, but he refused. "This will be a short meeting, General," he told her.

"I understand you appreciate directness, so I'll come straight to the point," General Tachi said. "It has been a week since you last declined to sell supplies to us. We are in great need. I ask you to reconsider. We are willing to pay a fair price."

"You would have me take food from the mouths of my own people to supply the very army that is invading us?"

"We are your defenders. Not invaders," she said.

"The Separatists would never have come here if it weren't for the weakness of the Republic! You brought this war upon yourselves, and now you have brought it upon us!"

"Governor Tristan, please. Regardless of who you think is to blame for this conflict, I know you are not without feeling. My men are hungry. If you help us, we'll be able to accomplish our goal more quickly, and get out of your way."

"I'm sorry, but I am unable to help you," Tristan said flatly. "Give up, and go home."

_Doesn't he know what is at stake?_ Siri thought in frustration. She stood up and stalked toward him.

"If we withdraw now, do you know what would happen?" she asked him. "The Separatists would be  
in possession of your planet. And they do not ask permission to take supplies, as we do. You will find they are not as pleasant a houseguest as I am."

"But _droid _armies don't need to eat."

Siri's irritation was threatening to boil over into anger. She put her hand over her mouth to give herself a moment to regain her composure. As she did so, she caught a whiff of the mysterious flower's fragrance still clinging to her skin. She breathed the scent in and out for a moment, and felt a wave of peace flow over her.

Calmer now, she leaned close to Tristan and made her final plea.

"Battle droids may not consume food, but they do consume lives," she told Tristan. "Please, all I am asking is three weeks' worth of food for 13,000 men. As soon as the droid army is defeated, we will leave your planet in peace."

"Leave it in pieces, you mean." Tristan stood, jerking his cape off his shoulder as he did so. "I have heard enough. Farewell, Jedi. I eagerly await your departure."

He ignored the expression of defeat that briefly flashed across the woman's face. Ever diligent on points of protocol, Tristan took the Jedi's hand in his and bowed low over it in the traditional farewell of his people.

Then he froze in mid-bow, his tip of nose just touching the back of her hand.

_"But Sayyidi, how am I to know friend from foe?"_

"You will know, my son."

The Sayyidi plucked one of the glowing white blossoms twined around her sacred staff, and  
brushed its ruffled aromatic petals across his cheek.

"You will know your friends, when you scent the breath of heaven upon them."  
  
Tristan remained where he was, bent over, as the Jedi withdrew her hand from his and dully turned away, climbing slowly back up the slope to where her soldiers waited.

"General Tachi!"

She turned, and looked silently back at him.

"What would you consider a fair price?"

General Tachi narrowed her eyes a bit, but answered, "Twenty thousand Republic credits."

"Done."

The Jedi lifted her eyebrows in surprise, then drew them together in confusion. "Done?"

"Done. I'll have the first shipment to you by the end of the day."

The Jedi gently shook her head from side to side, as if she could not believe her ears.

"Thank you..." she said slowly, then again, louder, "Thank you. You don't know what this  
means to us ... to me."

Tristan shrugged, a small smile touching his lips.

"What are friends for?" he asked.


	3. Chapter 3

Governor Tristan was true to his word. The supplies began arriving by mid-afternoon, and within a few hours the clones had feasted on the first fresh food they had tasted in months. Siri stayed in her tent long enough to plan an extensive attack to be carried out at first light tomorrow against the battle droid army stationed to the northeast, and then ate a good meal herself. She hadn't realized how irritable hunger made her, until she wasn't hungry anymore. She felt her spirits lift noticeably. The clones, too, were talking more animatedly than they had in a long while, and some of the men even began a spontaneous wrestling competition in the center of camp, encircled by their laughing peers.

Siri watched from a distance for a while, but she couldn't even keep track of which of the black-clad clones was winning because when the clones weren't wearing the armor that carried their unique identification markings, they all looked identical to her. She also knew a commanding officer's presence tended the dampen the fun, so after a while she wandered away, heading toward the small ravine that bordered the south end of camp.

It was safe enough here, surrounded as she was by clones. She could hear the noise Company C was making at the other end of the ravine as they, too, celebrated the acquisition of supplies.

As she walked, she refined her plans for the operation tomorrow, but eventually she knew it was as good as it was going to get and thinking about it anymore would become counterproductive. Siri let her mind wander, and soon she fell to wondering again who had left her the flower - and where it had come from. She had seen no flowers like it as she participated in patrols around the area.

It was nice to have a pleasant mystery to solve, for a change. She really couldn't imagine how it could be anyone but a clone. But which one? Most barely knew her, at least on a personal level. And she hadn't noticed any of them trying to make a special connection with her. Could she have been so distracted by her duties that she hadn't noticed such a thing?

Siri leaned up against a tree, loose rocks crunching under her feet, and stared up at the rough rock face rising up hundreds of meters toward the blue sky, noticing that the stone here in the ravine was mostly white, rather than the dark gray of the rocks in the camp. Far, far up, dark green foliage stood out starkly against the white rock.

And nestled among the dark green leaves ... white flowers!

Were they the same kind as the bloom now sitting in a canteen of water in her tent? From the ground, Siri couldn't be sure.

Maybe, if they were, she might find a clue left behind by whoever had brought her the flower!

Feeling suddenly resolute, Siri straightened up, dug an elastic band out of a compartment on her belt and pulled her hair back into a loose knot at the nape of her neck. Then she started to climb.

It was not an easy task, as the rock face slanted out from the ground at an oblique angle, making it difficult to cling with her feet as well as her hands. Several times, the white stone crumbled under her boots and she found herself swinging by her hands alone. But she was persistent, and at last, she reached the niche she was aiming for. Clinging to the stone face precariously by her toes and fingertips, she took a close look at the white blossoms.

_Victory!_ They were the same type as hers. And there was a broken-off stem, testifying that someone had been there very recently.

_Whoever brought that flower to me certainly went to a lot of trouble_, Siri thought.

And speaking of trouble, she was in a bit of trouble now. Due to the way the rock face slanted out away from the ground, it was going to be considerably harder to get back down. As a matter of fact, Siri realized, looking down with trepidation, it looked nearly impossible. And her arms were already tired.

_Why didn't I think of that _before_ I came up?_ she cursed to herself.

Searching for options, she looked up, and noticed that for several meters up and to the left, there were potential handholds that would lead her around a blind corner. Maybe she would have better luck over there finding a place to get down.

But before she attempted it, there was one last thing to do, since she had already gone to the effort to get there. Siri cautiously let go of the rock with one hand, reached up and plucked one of the blooms. The stem was tough and it took some work to break it off. Siri nearly lost her balance as it abruptly came off in her hand and she gasped, grabbing back on to the handhold and clinging to it for dear life.

Luckily, she hadn't smashed the flower too badly against the rock, and when her pounding heart had quieted down a bit, she was ready to go again. She tucked the flower into her knot of hair so she could use both hands freely, and climbed up and to the left. Gripping with her toes and knees, she edged around the corner and was relieved to see there was indeed a better way down. Within a few minutes, she dropped back down to the ground and leaned against the rock face to catch her breath. She brushed her hands off, sending up little white puffs into the air. Grimacing, she looked down and saw that her robe was covered from hood to hem in chalky white rock dust.

But as she looked down, she saw something else that suddenly intrigued her: footprints in the dirt. Fresh ones, less than a day old. Suddenly excited, she dropped to her knees to study them closely. Perhaps here was the clue that could lead her to the one who brought her the flower!

The prints had been made by a pair of boots, larger than hers. They looked very familiar. When Siri realized why, her excitement quickly died.

As she'd suspected, the prints had been made by a clone trooper. One of the 13,000 stationed under her command here on Dhakar. And Siri was pretty sure they all wore the same size.

Nevertheless, she followed the bootprints back through the ravine, massaging her sore arms as she walked. The trail led straight back to the central camp she'd just come from. And as she feared, the bootprints soon become indistinguishable among all the other identical bootprints leading to and from camp.

Siri sighed deeply as the optimism she'd felt earlier drained away. Her investigation had hit a dead end.

She could probably narrow it down to one of the 200 elite soldiers in the central camp who served under Captain Lock, and thus would have had more contact with her. But there was no way to know which one...

Sunset was just an hour away as Siri reached camp. She was just in time to hear a shout and then a sudden bustle of activity. It was Captain Lock, calling his clones to attention for the evening inspection. Every night he would make sure that the tents, latrines, equipment, and the clones themselves were all in perfect order. Throughout the area, all the captains of the various clone companies would be doing the same thing in their camps.

Siri thought wryly that if Lock had the authority to inspect her, he would have to give her a good dressing-down. She was covered in dust, her hair was falling out of the confines of the elastic band, and her hands were stained green from the juice that had leaked from the stem of the flower when she picked it. She'd tried to scrub it off in the stream that meandered through the ravine, to no avail.

The clones around her dropped what they were doing and jogged to the center of camp, where they stood at attention as Captain Lock approached to inspect them. Siri gave up trying to brush the dust off her robe, and settled instead on hiding her stained hands in her sleeves, intending to slip unobtrusively past the clones and into her tent so she could clean up properly.

Stained hands...

All of a sudden Siri was struck by a brilliant idea.

"Captain Lock!" she shouted, and her second-in-command turned toward her as she approached.

"I'll join you for inspection tonight," she told him. "I'd like to make sure discipline has not become lax now that we are well-supplied again."

"As you wish, General," he said politely, giving her dusty robes no more than a brief glance.

Lock turned and paced slowly down the ranks, looking closely at each clone with a critical eye. Siri followed behind him, looking carefully at their hands. It was hard to see anything because the clones stood at attention, with hands held stiffly at their sides, palms against thighs. This was not going to work.

Siri chose a random clone and grabbed his hand, inspecting it closely. No green stains. But he did have dirt under his fingernails.

"Disgraceful!" she said. "Do you call this clean, soldier?"

"No, ma'am! Sorry, ma'am," the man said crisply, looking straight ahead. Lock had paused ahead of her and was looking back, a curious expression crossing his face. General Tachi had never taken interest in the details of an evening inspection before.

Siri let go of the clone's hand, leaving a smear of white dust on his palm, and grabbed the hands of the next clone in line. "And you too!" she said disapprovingly. "Have you no pride in your appearance?"

"No, sir! I mean, yes, ma'am!" This clone became a bit flustered, his eyes roaming over her disheveled appearance.

Siri batted away the hair hanging in her eyes and tried to look offended.

"This is unacceptable! Hold out your hands, all of you!" she barked out. "No one is leaving until I've inspected all of your hands!"

To his credit, Lock did not betray his confusion in voice or behavior. "You heard the general!" he shouted. "Hold out your hands!"

Two hundred clones meant 400 hands to inspect. It took a long time. Siri began to get worried as she approached the end of the line. She hadn't found a single green stain. Maybe it had worn off the culprit's skin by now.

Siri looked at the hands of the last clone in the line. No stain. Her shoulders slumped in defeat.

"You may dismiss them," she told Lock glumly.

"Dismissed!" Lock shouted, and the men broke ranks and headed for their tents.

Tired and disappointed, Siri plunked down on a large rock and bent over, resting her elbows on her knees and staring at the ground. Strands of her hair hung around her face like a curtain. Failure gnawed at her.

"Are you all right, general?" a clone's voice asked her.

A pair of boots stepped into her line of vision. The tips of them were covered in white dust. Siri's eyes widened.

She straightened slowly, allowing her eyes to travel slowly up until she saw the rank designation on his armor. Captain Lock.

Siri snatched his hand and looked at it.

Green stains!

"My fingernails are clean, General," Lock said, surreptitiously trying to extract his hand from hers. Siri gripped it tighter.

"Captain Lock," she said slowly. "Is there ... something ... you'd like to tell me?"

"No, ma'am," Lock said, but Siri did not miss the way he swallowed nervously as his eyes flicked toward the white blossom still tucked into her hair.

Nor could she miss the crimson flush creeping across his cheeks.

_By the Force!_ Siri thought, looking up with amazement into his brown eyes. _This man is hopelessly in love with me!_


	4. Chapter 4

Clone Captain Lock didn't know much about women, having never been around them.

After all, despite appearing to be in his twenties, he had been grown just 11 years ago, and for the first 10 years he was raised in cloning facilities surrounded by his brothers and the occasional Kaminoan.

And although he had traveled the galaxy and fought on many worlds for the past year, most of his cultural encounters consisted of blasting battle droids. Until he was placed under General Siri Tachi's command three months ago, he had never seen a human woman up close before.

He hadn't known what to expect, but it turned out that working with her hadn't been much different from working with his previous commanding officer, a male Jedi. Until tonight.

General Tachi's behavior tonight had been very strange: joining him for nightly inspection, when she had never done so before. Wearing that weed in her hair. Staring into his eyes. Holding his hand. What did it all mean? He had a feeling it was significant, but he couldn't guess why.

And when she had asked him if there was anything he wanted to tell her, his mind had leaped guiltily to the odd order High General Kenobi had given him to leave the weed in General Tachi's tent. But he couldn't tell her about that. General Kenobi had ordered him not to get caught, and if there was one thing Lock did understand, it was how to follow orders. He would die before he'd let the secret out.

"...but General Koon stopped me and said, 'No, evacuate the women first.'"

Lock snapped out of his reverie and looked up. One of his lieutenants, CT-1401, was sitting on a rock on the other side of the campfire, with a small knot of clones gathered close around him. CT-1401 had recently been moved from General Koon's battalion to their company. He was unique because he had worked closely with civilians as he helped evacuate them from war zones. He quickly became the center of attention whenever he started telling stories about the strange things the civilians said and did.

"Why would you evacuate the women first?" CT-1488 asked blankly. "They're more expendable."

"That's what I said," CT-1401 continued. "I told him, 'With all due respect, sir, won't the men be more use to us if it comes to a fight? They're bigger and stronger.'"

"That's right," CT-1488 said, and the others nodded their agreement.

"But General Koon explained to me that women are fragile, and there's some kind of unwritten rule that men aren't supposed to let women get hurt, no matter what," CT-1401 said.

"I didn't know that," CT-1488 said uneasily. "No one ever told us that. What about General Tachi? She's a woman, and she always fights at the front of the line. Are we supposed to stop her?"

Lock was wondering the same thing. And even if they were supposed to, could they succeed? General Tachi was strong-willed. And she did not seem fragile.

Just then, a bell clanged to signal it was time to douse the fires and go to their tents. But Captain Lock had just had an idea. He caught up to CT-1401 before the lieutenant got to his tent and pulled him aside for a private conversation.

"You've been around women, lieutenant," Lock said. "Do you understand them?"

"I'm not sure what you mean, sir."

"I mean, do you know the difference between men and women?"

"Yes, sir. That was included in our training when we studied human anatomy."

"No, no, no, lieutenant," Lock said quickly. "I mean, do you understand why they do what they do? When they do things men don't do?"

"Maybe if you gave me an example, sir."

"What does it mean if a woman stares at you?"

"Well, it could mean several different things, sir. It might mean you have a bug in your hair. That happened to me once, on Rygel 4. Or sometimes, a woman stares at a man when she's trying to tell him she's interested in him romantically."

"_Romantically_?"

"Yes, sir. See, another of these unwritten rules is that women aren't allowed to just tell a man that she likes him. She's supposed to send him signals with her body instead."

"What kind of signals?" Captain Lock asked.

"Let's see... following him around everywhere, decorating herself up..."

"Decorating herself?"

"Yes, sir. Wearing fancy clothes, or putting flowers in her hair, that sort of thing."

"I see." Lock swallowed nervously. "What else?"

"Giving him a lot of eye contact... touching him, holding his hand..."

"Holding his hand?" Lock repeated, alarmed. "Are you sure? Are you sure that doesn't mean something else?"

"Yes, sir. Only couples hold hands, sir."

"That will be all, lieutenant," Captain Lock said hoarsely.

Lock was completely flummoxed as he went to his tent to sleep. Could it be that General Tachi had fallen in love with him?

***

Siri didn't want to embarrass Captain Lock.

After she caught him green-handed after the nightly inspection, she resisted confronting him right then and there. Instead, she went back to her tent and pulled out of her hair the flower she'd plucked from the cliff that day. Then she placed it in the canteen of water next to the one Lock had left in her tent the night before.

She fell asleep looking at the two blossoms, wondering what she'd done to make the poor man fall in love with her.

At dawn, she ducked into the communications tent to wait for all the clone captains to report in by hologram so she could brief them on the operation they would be carrying out shortly. A few minutes later, Lock joined her in the tent.

Could she have made a mistake? Siri stared at Captain Lock as the early morning light streamed into the tent, trying to detect any clues to what he was thinking. He held his helmet in his hands and fiddled with the straps while he unconsciously shifted his weight from foot to foot. She'd never seen him nervous before battle before. Or was he nervous about something else?

He must have felt her gaze, because he suddenly looked up at her. When their eyes met, he jumped and his eyes darted away, a flush spreading across his cheeks.

Siri had a bad feeling about this.

The last hologram flickered into view on the receiver in front of them. Siri pushed her distractions aside and began laying out her strategy for the captains. She intended to cut a wide swath through the droid army stationed to the northeast. If they made it far enough, they'd be able to secure land Governor Tristan's people considered sacred while they were at it. She would like to return the favor Tristan had granted her. When she was through outlining the plan, she asked if there were any questions.

The clone captains present in holographic form didn't speak up, but Lock did.

"Where will you be fighting, General?" he asked.

"With your company, of course," Siri said, surprised he'd asked. She always fought with him at the front of the line.

"General, ma'am," Lock said hesitantly. "Don't you think you'd better fight further back in the line?"

"Why would I do that?" Siri asked.

"Because you... you might get hurt," Lock said.

Siri looked at Lock incredulously. "I am Jedi. Fighting is what I do, same as you."

"But you are also a woman," Lock said. "I just found out-"

Siri interrupted him, painfully conscious of all the other clone captains still listening to this conversation. "You have your orders, captains. We deploy in one hour."

One by one, the holograms on the table winked out until she and Lock were alone. The clone was still fiddling with his helmet straps and looked intensely uncomfortable.

"Captain Lock," she said gently, laying her hand on his to get his attention. She felt his muscles tense up at her touch. "I understand why you are concerned about my safety, but it is inappropriate to allow your feelings to impact operations."

"My... feelings, ma'am?"

"Yes, Captain. I know about your feelings for me, and that's all right as far as it goes, but you must know you can't pursue me. I'm your superior officer."

"Pursue you, General? I'm not pursuing you!" Lock blurted out. "You're pursuing _me_!"

"What? No, I'm not!"

"I understand you can't tell me that, General, but CT-1401 explained it all to me, about your body signals," Lock said.

"What body signals?"

Lock looked down at Siri's hand still resting on his. Quickly, she jerked it away from him.

"I think you've made a mistake, Captain," she said icily.

"If you say so, General."

Siri was confused, and it was asking for trouble for them to go into battle together with something like this unresolved. It was time to be blunt.

"Captain Lock. Are you, or are you not, in love with me?"

"No, ma'am. I'm not."

Siri focused on the Force intensely, but she could detect no deception in him.

"But the flower!" she objected. "You left me a flower in my tent, didn't you?"

"No, ma'am," Lock said quickly. Too quickly. She sensed he was lying.

"I'll ask you again. Did you leave that flower in my tent?"

Lock didn't answer. Sweat beaded on his brow.

"Answer me honestly, soldier. That's an order!"

***

Lock knew he was in deep, deep trouble.

He always obeyed orders. He simply had to. It was decreed in his artificially altered DNA.

He couldn't disobey General Tachi's order to answer her question. But he couldn't disobey General Kenobi's order to keep Operation Paeonia a secret.

Lock felt as though he were caught in a vice. The psychological pressure was crushing him. He had to find an escape. Desperately, he sorted through all the protocols he had memorized as a newly-formed clone to see if any fit his current situation.

"Captain Lock!" General Tachi said sharply. "Answer my question!"

_Order 17: When under interrogation by an enemy combatant, a clone may reveal his designation and rank only._

_Close enough_, Lock thought_._ He stood smartly at attention. "Name: Lock! Rank: Captain! Designation: CT-1263!"

TO BE CONTINUED


	5. Chapter 5

_What in the seven moons of Bogden is going on here?_ Siri asked herself.

Lock apparently _wasn't_ in love with her - but he refused to admit that he brought the flower to her. And now he was acting as though he were her prisoner of war. Why?

Siri sat down limply on a storage crate and massaged her temples. Lock remained stiffly at attention.

_Clones always follow orders,_ Siri thought to herself. _The only time they don't follow orders is..._

There was only one explanation Siri could come up with - someone who outranked her had given Lock a conflicting order.

Who could it have been? Siri was the highest-ranking Jedi on Dhakar. That meant the order must have come via hologram. She looked at the hologram transmitter with sudden hope. If Lock hadn't thought to wipe the memory banks...

"Dismissed, Captain," she said to Lock. "Prepare the troops for battle."

Lock left, looking intensely relieved. The moment he was gone, Siri dived for the hologram transmitter.

***

_One month later:_

"Captain Lock did _what_?" Obi-Wan said sharply.

He and Siri were sitting comfortably in the common room of her quarters in the Jedi Temple, enjoying their reunion after a long separation. Siri, with the help of Jedi Master Rahm, had succeeded in routing the Separatists from the planet of Dhakar and was enjoying a well-earned couple of days off before she would be sent to her next assignment.

"He brought me the most beautiful flower," Siri repeated. "Look, here it is." She pointed at the single gorgeous white blossom growing in a pot on a small table. "I thought it might die after a few days, but I put it in water and it ended up growing new roots. It's pretty tough for something so beautiful."

"And, uh... how do you know he was the one who brought it?" Obi-Wan asked casually.

"Because he handed it to me. And then he told me I have the prettiest eyes he's ever seen. Wasn't that sweet?"

Obi-Wan looked annoyed. "He wasn't supposed to do that!" he said.

"What, flirt with me a little bit? I didn't mind," Siri said. "I know he's my subordinate, but it's not like I'm dating him. No harm done.

"Although," she added suddenly, "he did say that after the war is over he wants to meet up with me again and take me out to dinner."

"He ought to be decommissioned for that!" Obi-Wan growled.

"Is something wrong?" Siri asked innocently. "Your face is turning purple. Are you ill? Maybe you'd better go back to your quarters and lie down for a while."

Obi-Wan glowered at the offending flower. "I think I will."

He sulked all the way back to his quarters. This was his reward for doing something nice for Siri. He'd thought it would be more fun if he gave the flower anonymously - it would give Siri a pleasant mystery to solve, for a change.

But he'd expected that eventually Siri would remember that _she_ was the one who'd jokingly suggested that Obi-Wan send her flowers, back when she complained to him about Governor Tristan refusing to sell her supplies.

Apparently she hadn't remembered. And apparently Captain Lock had far more initiative than Obi-Wan would ever have suspected in a clone.

_Aren't they supposed to have independence bred out of them?_ he grumbled as he opened the door to his quarters.

The first thing he noticed was that it smelled good inside his quarters. Heavenly, in fact. The fragrance was light and appealing, not cloying.

It also smelled exactly like Siri's quarters. Obi-Wan started looking around for the source of the scent. Almost immediately, his eyes fell on a container set on the table in his common room. There was a single white flower growing in it.

Obi-Wan walked over and gently touched the velvety petals. And then he put his face in his hands and laughed softly at himself. Siri knew exactly who had sent her the flower. And now she had returned the favor.

There was a soft knock on the door behind him.

He crossed the room and opened the door to see Siri leaning on the door frame, looking at him expectantly with one eyebrow raised. She held the pot containing her flower in front of her and Obi-Wan felt his breath catch at the contrast of the white blossom against her pink cheeks.

"How are you feeling now?" Siri asked archly.

"A bit foolish," Obi-Wan said.

"I got you, didn't I?"

"Big time," Obi-Wan admitted. "Come in."

Siri settled herself gracefully onto the couch and Obi-Wan sat next to her, close enough that their legs brushed together. Siri set her flower next to his, and they both leaned back and admired the pair.

"Look at that," Siri said. "They're-"

"-a perfect match," Obi-Wan finished with her in unison. They both laughed.

"Thank you," Siri said. "It really was very sweet of you to send me a flower. It was just what I needed."

"We'll have to send Captain Lock a thank-you note for delivering it," Obi-Wan said. He smiled at Siri so that his eyes crinkled up at the corners.

"He was right about one thing," he said. "You _do_ have the prettiest blue eyes I've ever seen."

"Captain Lock never noticed my eyes, I'm quite sure of that. And he thinks I'm a lunatic now. Don't ask - it's a long story."

"That's just as well," Obi-Wan said, putting his arm around her shoulders. "If he really did show up after the war to take you to dinner, he'd have to get through me first."

Siri laughed, and laid her head on his shoulder contentedly. Obi-Wan closed his eyes, enjoying the silky softness of her hair against his cheek, and thought, _This must be what heaven is like._

***

EPILOGUE:

On board the _Aken_, headed for Saleucami and the next battle, Captain Lock was lost in thought. As CT-1401 had predicted, General Tachi never had admitted to being in love with him. But all the signs were there, he was sure of it.

She was an excellent tactician and a fearless warrior. Lock had to admit that she was also pleasant to look at. And she smelled... heavenly. Maybe, when the war was over, he would find a way to meet her again.

END


End file.
